


Ravens Hope

by Crown_of_oak



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-10 08:46:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1157583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crown_of_oak/pseuds/Crown_of_oak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's always hard watching the one you love walk away. You would think that when they are doing it to save the world it wouldn't quite hurt so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ravens Hope

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer - With the exception of Baurus, if you recognise it from Oblivion - It's not mine, I'm merely borrowing it.
> 
> This story came about because I was wondering what would happen if a relationship formed between a female player and Martin. Plus Martin is voiced by Sean Bean, so I'd talk to Martin just to listen to his voice.   
> This is my first completed and published fanfic – I’ve started many and lost track of them over time. I’ve post poetry for Dr who on my DA – which kinda counts. I wrote this a couple of years ago but only just got an Ao3 account.

_It’s always hard watching the one you love walk away. You would think that when they are doing it to save the world the pain would be less. No matter the cause, the heart crushing pain is there, the confusion crashing over you in a wave. Your mind adding to the screams of those outside the walls and the realisation that it’s actually your voice, the bone chilling ache as you watch your love’s sacrifice, especially when you know it should be your sacrifice, that they are too important. But no, it always hurts. His final words offering me thanks for all my help and telling me he loved me. He was amazing, he didn’t care that I had killed people, that I had been a thief. To him I was a good person, more than an assassin, more than a nameless fighter; more than a hired sword. To him, the blood on my hands didn’t matter. He understood that darkness is part of us……._

Modryn held the diary in his hands. He knew he shouldn’t be reading it. Before she left Caol specified that it wasn’t for him to read. Although all he had was a letter stating his responsibility from now on, that this diary was to be kept secret, and that she had hoped she would come back.

…… _I was a member of the Dark Brotherhood, resulting in my promotion to Listener of the Black Hand. There was some trouble with a traitor in the ranks; they thought it was my sponsor, Lucien Lachance. Luckily I managed to find out that Lucien wasn’t the traitor before my mentor was killed. But before that happened, when I was an Executioner, I was arrested for murder and thrown in prison, across from a rather creepy Dunmer. Luckily it didn’t affect my standing within the guilds. Here I met the Emperor. Emperor Uriel Septim VII, the leader of Cyrodil forced to escape from his own palace. His three sons had already been attacked and killed. He recognized me from his dreams, for I had a role yet to play. I guess this was the point Fate first placed her mark on me. I followed in the shadows, finding weapons and armour as I went. I then watched a great man die, the assassin appeared and then it was too late. With the Amulet of Kings in my hand, some gold in my pocket and the still warm blood of an emperor on my face, I set out for a place I’d never heard of. From there I was sent to Kvatch in search of the Emperor’s illegitimate son, armed with a sword and a name....._

Modryn turned the page, curiosity overriding sensibility.

...... _It was in Kvatch I met Martin, quiet, honourable, handsome Martin. He had bravely led the survivors of the first wave of Daedra and barricaded themselves within the chapel. Many survived due to his actions, not as many as the soldiers had hoped, but some is better than none. I jumped into the fray helping to clear the city of Daedra. And here I was hailed the Hero of Kvatch, because I was brave, stupid or lucky enough to run onto the planes of Oblivion and to walk out alive, Sigil stone in one hand, sword in the other. We met first as I stumbled into the chapel, blackened by the fires of Oblivion, weary from the run though hell. I walked in and the survivors cheered, then Martin, in his soft voice, said thank you. He was the calm holding those people together, I just wanted to collect him and leave. However, his kindness and his honour dictated that he would not leave unless these people were safe. And so I left the chapel, all because he took my hand and asked, to make sure the path was clear and to see if there were more survivors. None were that lucky, not even the Count of Kvatch......_

_......After an intriguing conversation with Martin over the identity of his father, we set out for Weynon Priory. My horse, well Lucien’s horse really, Shadowmere, wonderful creature that she is, carried us both to Skingrad. I have a manor there, so it makes it easy to keep a low profile, for there I became the eccentric noble who eschewed company. We stayed the night in Rosethorn Manor. I had planned to get some brandy or wine to celebrate, or forget, but we never got as far as drinking it. The room had felt cold, even with a blazing fire. I hoped and prayed that Oblivion hadn’t taken my ability to feel the warmth of the earth. Martin showed me otherwise. It was an interesting night, one I will never forget, a night filled with the passion found only after the realization of how fleeting life really is. From there we shared a bedroll while travelling to the Priory. As Martin settled into the idea that his father was the Late Emperor, we both reached the conclusion that our affair should be kept quiet, for he was now royalty and I was a lowly Redguard, albeit a very successful one, but not someone who came to mind when thinking of royalty. Also because it was ours, a constant through the uncertainty that was to come. So we had nights filled with quiet passion and kisses in the dark……_

Pages were flipped forward, scarlet eyes scanning the words, realisation dawning in them.

…… _..I think Jauffre suspected, but never commented, as for the other Blades they did not know. I was just a fighter who appeared occasionally – usually at dusk – and would speak to Martin in the privacy of his room then leave again on another errand for him. What they didn’t know is that most of my ‘speaking’ with Martin tended to be silent, although sometimes in the dead of night he told me of his past, of his tangling with Sanguine or he would count my scars, taking note of every new one, healing those he could, although he healed more than wounds. He made me promise not to get hurt again, despite knowing that I would end up breaking it. Over time after fetching the various items for him to help save the world and our quiet nights together in the Cloud Ruler Temple, we settled into a pattern. Here was this great man, a humble man, destined to be Emperor even as the country was slipping into Oblivion itself, just trying his hardest to reverse what was happening, to fulfil a role that was thrust upon him. And here was I, a Redguard of no note, a battle worn warrior with a bloodstained soul, but he didn’t care and so I fell in love, I was his as he was mine. ……._

Modryn paused in his reading. He knew this was meant for Baurus, but he still had to know. They all knew of the final confrontation, but not the build-up.

…… _And then Martin became the Avatar of Akatosh to save us all. I could hear him after he died, in my head, talking of the future, of the ending of the Third Age, of the Elder Scroll yet to written, supposedly by my hand. Oddly I heard Lord Akatosh, whose power Martin was a conduit , that in payment for my part in saving the world that I would get him back one day. Then High Chancellor Ocato came up, wanting to know detail; I don’t remember the conversation, or many days after. They all blurred together, all I could focus on was that Martin was gone. I was champion but if that was the cost was losing Martin then I didn’t want to be Champion. I spent many days standing in the Temple of One near the statue, just waiting for Akatosh to fulfil his promise. I found a shard of the Amulet and carried it with me always. I think it was Modryn, blunt, angry, wonderful Modryn, in a pure Dunmeri style dragged me from the Imperial City to Chorrol and ordered me not to let my skills go to waste. I was angry at him for so long; I never thanked him for helping me.……_

The dark elf smirked at the description. He remembered that day, Caol showed her fighting strength then. She fought him physically and verbally from the Temple of the One to Chorrol. Modryn winced and rubbed his jaw at the memory, she had one hell of a shield arm.

…… _Then I realized the unexpected, but not unwelcome; I was pregnant. Martin had left a final legacy, one last person carrying the Septim blood. It is possible that this was what Akatosh meant: I’d see Martin again in my child. I hoped with all my heart that this wasn’t the case. Given the turmoil of the empire I couldn’t tell people, the only one who would believe me had died getting Martin to the Dragonfires. So I kept the identity of my baby’s father secret, to keep him with me, but also to protect him. The country needed a figurehead, a leader. I couldn’t bring myself to do it but I wasn’t going to let them take my baby from me to place on a broken throne. No matter how Lucien tried to convince me I wasn’t going to raise my child in an old fort, despite the many times I hid at Farragut to escape, well everybody. Using the money I had earned but had no use for, I collected up my horses and I had a large farm built in the Heartlands, south of Bruma. I wanted to have just a house and farm for myself, but Modryn and oddly Lucien both convinced me that it was impractical. So the Ravens Hope community was slowly built. I got Ejya, my Rosethorn house keeper, to quietly find single parents or young families looking for work to help at the farm. She then pointed out if I was to have children at the farm they needed a teacher. I couldn’t deprive my child of friends or education. I had wanted Ravens Hope to be self sufficient, but soon realised the flaw in this plan. We could grow food and some medicinal plants, but the community was too small for a blacksmith or a healer. These problems meant I couldn’t cut off all interaction with the cities, but luckily I could limit it. Still as head of the Fighters and the Dark brotherhood, I couldn’t be completely unreachable. .….._

… _..Then my son was born, half imperial, half Redguard. Son of Martin, the could have been Emperor and Caol the now reclusive Champion of Cyrodil. Baurus, named after one of the blades who died protecting Cyrodil, grew under my watchful eye and those who had become important friends. Oddly Lucien, my heartless bastard of a mentor who inducted me into the Dark brotherhood was always there. He probably guessed the identity of Baurus’ father; he always did know these things, although most assumed he was the son of his namesake. I continued helping the fighter’s guild where I could, eventually becoming the Master of the guild and stopping the Blackwood company bastards. I never had nightmares about Oblivion nor my work for the Dark brotherhood, but what I had to do at Water’s Edge haunted me. Modryn now deferred to me as my second in command so he suggested I joined the mages guild, learn how to use magic, healing in particular, to make up for the lives I had taken. I did, given that up to then my meagre magic skills were limited to a weak fire ball and healing spells. But oddly I found my skills as a fighter and an assassin were more useful to me than using magic to wipe out the growing cult of Necromancers sweeping across Cyrodil. It kept me busy, keeping my war hammer skills honed. I always favoured blunt weapons, Martin never understood why, but he preferred to wield words rather than weapons. So I became somewhat respected by Mages, although not for my magic skills, as well of the fighters, I don’t think Ocato realised. The people idolised me anyway, if I had wanted I could’ve taken control, but I liked the quiet of Ravens Hope….._

Modryn stared down at the page then looked at the four year old sleeping on his bed. Here was his godson, Master Caol’s son, the child he had watched grow. The reason Caol hadn’t been stupid while fighting the either goblins or necromancers. The son of Cyrodil’s saviours, the Champion and the greatest of the Septims, a child who could have been Emperor had he been born before the Oblivion crisis. But Caol had chosen not to say anything and so Cyrodil had been forced to find a new leader in High Chancellor Ocato, who held the realm together the best he could, despite the views of the people. However it had been Ocato who had called her from Ravens Hope, from her home and son to help fix the latest crisis. Even five years after the oblivion crisis was over, the Mythic Dawn followers hadn’t been stamped out. The High Chancellor claimed lack of resources, Modryn thought otherwise. Regardless of what should have been done, they had banded together and after 5 years of biding their time and slowly gaining power, they had opened one final gate to Oblivion. It was where the great gate of Bruma had stood, so messengers were sent through the Fighters guild to their master, to Caol. Pulling her from the quiet life she had carved out for herself. Modryn didn’t know the details of the gate, only that her assassin friend, as much as that man could be friends with anyone, had appeared with Baurus on his horse, the letter and the diary. His only words had been that if they didn’t hear anything of her after the gate was closed they were to read the letters and raise Baurus well, although not in an abandoned fort. According to Lachance she had emotionlessly strapped on her armour and weapons. Saddled both Shadowmere and her black horse, then tearfully handed a sleeping Baurus over. The only words she had apparently uttered about the opening of the gate were ‘why were they asking this of her again’. After leaving Shadowmere and her son with Lucien, the Champion of Cyrodil, hero of Bruma and Kvatch, mother of Baurus had ridden off to do one final duty.

* * * *

Caol stared down from the barricades near the Oblivion gate, helmet under one arm “Have you sent any men into the gate?” she asked, noting the bodies of both Daedra and soldiers. “No Ma’am” Captain Carsten said, breath clouding in the cold air, “The countess and Blades both ordered us to wait for your arrival.” Caol sighed inwardly, she knew that the Countess didn’t want to leave her city unprotected, but she was no less likely to succeed that any of these men. “Have the waves of Daedra been constant? Or only at specific times?” Caol queried, staring at the gate. The Nord turned towards the gate, chainmail clinking as he moved. “They attack once a day and only once, but never the same time. And they have already attacked today, before you arrived” Caol turned to the man, “I will enter the gate then. If I do not return and the gate remains open, send your most efficient team of men do what I could not, and please try to bring my body back. If the gate closes and I do not walk out again, well either way, send a messenger to Modryn Oreyn of Chorrol telling him of my fate and that I am sorry.” The cold wind from the Jerall Mountains caught the wayward strands of her dark red hair, currently tamed in a series of braids. The two figures climbed down the barricade. Caol collected her weapons from her horse and started buckling them on. She paused, “Do you have a wife?” she asked quietly. The captain shifted uncomfortably, “Not as such Ma’am.” Caol smiled softly to herself, “When you get a chance before the next battle, tell them you love them.” The captain looked puzzled, “yes Ma’am” he said confused. Caol then gave a half salute, before jamming the helm on her head. Making sure she had weapons and suitable healing potions, she handed the reins of her horse the captain. “Take care of him” she murmured, nodding to the horse, “Hopefully I’ll be back for him.”

Caol slipped through the gateway left in the barricade built to stop the waves of Daedra. She stared up at the gate to Oblivion, ‘I’m so sorry Martin, this shouldn’t be happening’ she thought, before swinging her war hammer from her back. Caol rolled her shoulders and shifted the weapon in her grip. Taking a deep breath, she stepped through the gate. The burning cold and freezing heat of the travel to Oblivion hit her immediately, she really hadn’t missed this. Red and black started bleeding across her vision, dominating everything until only they remained. Her heartbeat echoed in her head, the only sound in the silence. Weapon at the ready, she stumbled out the other side. Immediately the heat and roar of Oblivion seeped through her armour, making it almost unbearable. Caol looked up at the Sigil tower, noting the positions of the other towers. Well at least she recognised this plane, made her job easier. Listening carefully for scamps or clannfear over the roar of the lava and fires, Caol set out avoiding landmines and fire towers. Her journey through to the sigil keep was uneventful, throwing rocks or unwanted weapons at the landmines always helped. It was in the towers she remembered another thing she hated about Oblivion, this was as well as the Daedra, the Lava, the heat, the Fire towers and the Daedra. It was having fighting the blasted creatures on narrow ledges. Sometimes she got lucky and could push them off, without losing her feet. Once she entered the keep she knew her luck and time was running out. The minor injuries she had received from the Daedra she had already fought were making themselves known. Her reactions were slowing, but she had to keep moving, had to get to the sigil stone and get out. Caol made quick work of the Daedra in the Rending Halls and the Corridors of Dark Salvation. Pausing before she entered the Sigillum Sanguis, Caol downed her last healing potions, it was now or never.

She entered the final hall at a limping run and threw herself at the Dremora Kynmarcher before it had time to summon anything, quickly dispatching it and its fellows, she continued up towards the stone. Just as she reached for the stone, there was a screech and a spider Daedra dropped from the ceiling, one clawed foot raking down her back. Caol grunted in pain, before whirling on her enemy. The spider woman laughed and summoned a spiderling before darting out of reach. Lashing out with the war hammer the spiderling quickly fell to the blunt weapon. Caol then moved forward, intent on the Daedra. The fight was short and brutal, Caol rapidly eliminating the Daedric threat. However, with its dying breath, it smiled sweetly at Caol, and drove a clawed foot through the gap of armour at her calf. Caol screamed in pain and the leg crumpling under her. Her mediocre healing skills couldn’t fix that much damage and the blood fountain was too far to crawl, the membrane ramp was treacherous enough on the way up. Slowly Caol levered herself onto hands and knees and painstakingly crawled back to the sigil stone. She had to get the gate closed. Sweat pouring down her face from the pain and the heat, Caol hauled herself up and managed to lift the sigil stone from its holding. She then collapsed onto her back, pain overriding all other actions. She couldn’t get out of here, not even with the promise of her son being safe, it just hurt too much. One hand around the sigil stone, the other reached up and pulled off her helmet, braids spilling across her shoulders and ground underneath her. Tears spilled down her cheeks, “I’m sorry Baurus” she said as Oblivion crumbled and crashed around her. She smiled softly and closed as the heat lessened, becoming a comforting warmth rather than a raucous burn. Even her leg was hurting less, white started to take the place of the black.

* * * *

“ **Champion. Rise.”** A voice rumbled through her mind. Caol's eyes snapped open, grey stretched away in every direction. She focused on the only difference in the lack of landscape, a fiery figure. Its form shifted from dragon to man to hybrid and back. **“Champion. Rise”** it said again, a touch of annoyance this time. Caol took a deep breath and carefully levered herself to her feet, expecting her injured leg to crumple. However, her leg only ached rather than burning in pain and the other wounds didn’t even twinge. Caol looked up puzzled. The figure seemed to nod in satisfaction **“Good. Your injuries were troublesome but I cannot remove them. I have made them older than they were. They are no longer any danger”** It paused, then spoke again “ **Champion, it is time for your reward”** Caol looked up weary and puzzled, “Reward? I was just doing my job.” The figure huffed in annoyance, **“You mortals cannot just accept that which is given can you? Your reward for your role in the Oblivion crisis and the defeat of Lord Dagon, your reward as my champion.”** Caol froze, “Lord Akatosh?”

The figure seemed to glow even brighter with pride, **“Well done Champion. It’s now time for the reward I promised at Dagon’s defeat.”**

Caol frowned “That was 5 years ago lord” she paused and then asked quietly, voice radiating hope “Does this mean I will see Martin?”

Akatosh waved a hand impatiently **“Mortals have such an interesting view of time. And yes, you will see Martin again, Champion. Although he will not be exactly the same Martin you knew. He will know you and what happened, but he will not look like Martin, nor will he be of the dragonblood. He will be your Emperor, but not.”**

Caol gasped, hope filling her. “It wasn’t just the man or rank I fell in love with. It was his heart.”

“ **However, there is a price”** Akatosh held up a hand to forestall her questions **“There will be a price, for even I cannot just go muddying the waters of my domain. The price will be a child’s life.”**

Caol froze again “A child’s life? My child’s life?” her voice rose in pitch “You cannot take him, you cannot take Baurus.”

Akatosh roared and she shrunk back. **“Stupid mortal! I am not a Daedra! I do not steal life from the living, I do not demand a blood price. I’m talking about future life. To get Martin back, I get the future lives of the children you could have, that if you accept the price you now cannot.”**

Caol looked up at the fiery figure, fear in her eyes. “Sorry Lord Akatosh. But I’d really be getting Martin back?” She asked quietly.

“ **Good. I will now put you where you should be. And I will do something about the Mythic Dawn agents. They shouldn’t have been able to open the gate.”** The god waved an arm and Caol’s vision when black

* * * *

Snow floated down onto the armoured figure, lying face down on the ground. It pushed itself up onto hands and knees. One arm slipped from under them causing them to slump back down on the snow. After that aborted attempt to stand, Caol rolled over onto her back and caught her breath. With slow movements and leaning heavily on her war hammer Caol carefully climbed to her feet. Akatosh had said he had aged her wounds, but she hadn’t expected to hurt this much. Taking care on the slippery ground, she limped towards the remains of the barricades. As she approached the city walls, shouts rang out and the gates creaked open. A handful of guards ran out, lead by their Nordic Captain. Caol felt two of the men sling her arms over their shoulders; another relieved her of the battered war hammer. “Get her to the barracks and get a Healer from the Chapel. Send a messenger to the Countess and another to Oreyn in Chorrol.” The Captain barked out orders to the surrounding guards. Caol was half carried into the guard barracks and lowered sat down on a bed. “Get her armour off” Carsten ordered the two guards, before wrestling the gauntlets from her hands. “We took you for dead Ma’am” he murmured as the guards made quick work removing cuirass and greaves. Caol smiled wearily, “How long? And did you tell them?” she asked sleepily. Carsten smiled as he pulled a blanket over her, “The gate closed a week ago, Ma’am. And yes I did.”

“Trust yourself, trust him and you will know” Akatosh murmured in her head, then Caol slid into sleep.

She woke briefly as the warmth of healing washed over her. “....can’t fix....leg....will have ...limp” the Healer’s voice filtered into the fluffy world she floated in. “Leave...sleep.” A door opened and shut. When Caol woke fully there were raised voices outside, Carsten’s calling for quiet and Modryn demanding to see her. The door slammed open

“I will see her if I want to.” Modryn threw back at the guard captain as he stomped into the room.

“You will wake her” Carsten hissed. Caol watched from the bed as Modryn whirled on the Nord.

“First you send me a message telling me she died, then you send another saying she didn’t. And now I am here, you won’t let me see her.” Carsten took a step back.

“Modryn. Stop” Caol croaked out, “Where is Baurus?” The Dunmer paused and turned to the bed.

“He’s with your honourless imperial friend; he took him to Ravens Hope.”

Caol laughed breathlessly, “Lucien is not without honour, just a skewed code. But he is safe? Had you told him?”

Modryn shuffled his feet, “We decided not to until we worked out the best way.”

Caol nodded tiredly, “I just want to go home now” She levered herself upright, swaying dangerously. She weakly pulled on a clean shirt and trousers, ignoring the two men in the room. Modryn moved forward and picked up the bag containing her armour. “Where are my weapons?” Caol asked as she pulled on her boots.

“I’ll get them fetched from the Armoury. I think the Countess wants to speak to you.” The Captain said.

Caol shook her head, “No, I’m going to go to my horse, then go home to my son,” Leaning heavily on Modryn, the champion left Bruma for her son and home.

* * * *

Caol leant forward sleepily, thankful again that Modryn was leading her horse. “– found a new teacher” he said looking back at her. She pulled herself upright, “Sorry what?” she asked puzzled.

“Ejya found a new teacher for Ravens Hope, after the mage left to pursue her own research. He’s been here for a couple of days” Modryn repeated. Caol rubbed her forehead tiredly, she just wanted to get home and sleep.

“I’ll meet him tomorrow I think” she muttered tiredly, “All I want now is to see Baurus and sleep.” Modryn nodded and urged his horse further up the hill. They reached the branch in the road that led to Ravens Hope.

“Nearly there” Modryn said as he turned the horses. “Do you want to ride on your own?”

Caol looked sleepily at him, “I’ll take the reins for this last bit” she said sitting up straight in the saddle, “No fanfares” she added, half jokingly.

The two riders continued down the trail to the settlement. As they approached, cheers rang out and the close knit group of Ravens Hope moved towards the buildings, ready to welcome their hero home. Caol stopped her horse and then was surrounded by the Orcs, Dunmer and Bretons that populated ravens Hope. She smiled as she was helped down from her horse.

“Welcome home Mistress Caol.” Members of the crowd repeated as she passed through them. Collapsing on the steps to her home, she looked up at the gathered people “It’s good to be home. The Mythic Dawn have failed in bring Mehrunes Dagon back once again” she said. A cheer went up. “Now where is my son?” She smiled.

“Mama! Mama!” Baurus shouted, tearing towards her. Caol opened her arms, welcoming the fast moving bullet that was her son. She hugged him to her tightly, trying to hold back tears. To think she had nearly lost this. “Mama. You’re home, Lucien said you would be. We have a new teacher. He’s an old priest. Well not old like Grandma Vilena, but not a priest anymore. And he knows all kinda things.” her son babbled at her, Caol just smiled down at him. “He said Akatosh sent him to teach.” Baurus grabbed her hand and tugging her towards the building used for teaching.

The pair entered the building, Baurus leading the way to a tall man reading near a window. He looked up and smiled. Caol took an involuntary step back. The smile was right and the eyes were right. She immediately felt wary. The man offered a hand “I’m Marius. The new teacher.” Caol paused, even the name was similar. She hesitantly took the offered hand. “I’m Caol.” She said quietly.

Marius grinned again “You must be Baurus’s mother. From his stories I half expected you to be 10 feet tall and wield a sword like a butter knife.” Caol blushed, hugging her son to her

“He’s prone to exaggeration where I, Modryn or Lucien are concerned,” She murmured. Scooping her son up, she nodded to the man. He looked as if he wanted to say something else, but Caol left the building. With her son resting on her hip, Caol walked over to Modryn. “Can you stable the horses and bring my armour inside please?” she asked quietly “I’m going to go lie down and Baurus is going to tell me what he got up while I was away.” Modryn nodded, Caol smiled in thanks before adding into her home. She spent the rest of the day in a dream like state. Lying against the headboard of her bed, with Baurus curled at her side. Her son babbled about all the things he had done while she was away, bringing her examples of his foray in the writing and basic alchemy. She would need to talk to Lucien about what was appropriate to teach a four year old, but that was for another day. Listening to her son was all she needed for now.

After a quiet few days regaining some of the strength she lost, Caol ventured out of her home to speak with Lucien and the new teacher. As fan of dramatics, but not of social contact, Lucien would appear quietly and invisible. He was hard to track down sometimes, but Caol knew if she called for his presence, he would be there. But he arrived as directed, so Caol explained what was and what wasn’t appropriate to teach her son, emphasising why teaching certain aspects of Alchemy was a bad idea. Lucien was unexpectedly contrite and promised not to teach him anymore Alchemy until Baurus was at an age when he could understand the consequences. After her discussion with Lucien, she entered the school house. “Mama, guess what I did today?” Caol embraced her son. “Baurus go outside, I need to speak with Marius alone” Her son looked forlornly up at her; “You might catch Lucien in one of his good moods if you go now. He hiding in the shadows again” Baurus giggled then dashed out into the sunshine.

Caol straightened “He said you told them Akatosh sent you?” Caol asked staring Marius in the eye, “You’d better not be another one of _Them_ ” she spat the final word, hand going to the dagger at her hip. Marius held up his hands in surrender, “Really Akatosh sent me. Said to mention ‘Time for his Champion’s reward’ or something.”

Caol sharply drew in a breath, “No. No, no, no, no, no.” She backed away slowly “No, not now, you’re not him.” She reached the door, fumbling around behind her for the door handle; she continued staring at the man. “You’re Not Him.” She screamed at him before storming out into the sunshine. She took a deep breath to calm herself before heading over to Lucien and her son. Picking her son up, she hugged the boy to her. “I’m going home. My armour needs checking. Lucien remember what I said”

Baurus looked about ready to protest, when the door of the school house burst open. “Wait” Marius shouted, arm extended towards Caol. She glanced at him, deposited her son into a surprised Lucien’s arms and stalked towards her home. Marius ran to catch her up, as his did so, Caol lengthened her stride. ‘I’m not running’ she told herself, ‘I just have things that need doing’ as she fumbled with the key to her home, Marius caught her arm. She glowered at him before storming into her house, the man trailed after her. She whirled on him “Out” she shouted, shaken by his presence. Marius just smiled that damned smile, that familiar smile. “I’m not him, I know that. I’m me, but at the same time I am him. Akatosh did something” Caol glared at him and pointed at the door, other hand on the dagger. Marius held up a hand, “Just listen” he said pleadingly, looking at her the same way Martin did, eyes searching her face. “When you walked into the chapel, people cheered. He said thank you. You smiled through the grime and the soot and the sands of oblivion and all I... he thought was that there was a chance everything would be alright.” Caol shook her head furiously, “Anyone in the chapel could know that” she narrowed her eyes “and tell people.” Marius carefully reached out and took the hand pointing at the door, cradling it carefully between his two larger ones. “In Skingrad you wanted to drink to celebrate, or forget, you said both. I...He wouldn’t let you drink to either. You said it was cold, even with the fire blazing. You were frightened that Oblivion had stolen something from you, I...him... we... showed you that nothing was missing.” Caol froze, only Martin would know this, only Martin could know this. She opened her mouth to say something, but Marius beat her to it. “Cloud Ruler Temple, west wing bedroom. I spoke of Sanguine and scars. You had 36 before the Dragonfires.” Marius moved a little closer, holding her hand to his chest, against his rapidly beating heart “Each night together he...I... made you promise not to get hurt. I knew you couldn’t keep it, but he asked anyway. For him you ran into Oblivion and out again, regardless of the danger. He knew the cost to you and to me. But to me you were fragile, despite the armour and the anger.”

Caol looked up at Marius, no words in her head. This was Martin and not, like Akatosh had promised. She searched him eyes for lies, for truth, for something other than Martin who she saw looking back. Akatosh’s words came back to her ‘Trust him, trust yourself.’

“Trust yourself” she murmured before wrapping her arms around Marius. The man whooped and spun her around. He kissed her firmly before clutching her to him, “Akatosh’s Champions get their rewards.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've played Oblivion a lot and realised that if you follow the main quest and all the other faction Quest lines - Your character ends up with a lot of money and in charge of everything. Yes I retconned Lucien’s death – I found him amusing – Arquen can Dies in his place, she was too much of a sycophant for my taste.
> 
> Please, please, please review. I’d love feedback. Any name or tense inconsistencies please point out to me.
> 
> Flames – well if you get annoyed because ‘X doesn’t happen in game’ or ‘person Y doesn’t do this’. Great, good for you. Why are you reading fan-fiction then?


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